


A Very Denny Christmas

by codewordpumpkin



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Boston Legal Crossover (Sort of), Denny Crane - Freeform, F/M, The Blacklist Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codewordpumpkin/pseuds/codewordpumpkin
Summary: For The Blacklist Secret Santa on Tumblr!Red and Liz attend a Christmas party hosted by CEO of Flamingo Corp., Denny Crane.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	A Very Denny Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!

“Really, Reddington? Your Blacklister couldn’t wait until after the holidays? It’s Christmas Eve, for god’s sake.”

“I’m sorry, Donald, did you have something better planned? Well, don’t pout or shout just yet. If you’ve been a particularly good boy this year, you may just find a gift from Santa waiting for you at home… or on your doorstep if you’d prefer the illusion of security—I know the FBI loves that.”

Cooper’s brows furrowed as his temples began to throb. “ _Reddington._ ”

Red was adept at picking his battles.

“Denny Crane,” he said, as if the name alone was explanation enough.

“The CEO of Flamingo Corp.?” Elizabeth asked.

“The one and only.”

“I still don’t get how he thought that’d be a good name for an arms company,” Aram said from his spot behind his computer.

“Don’t try to get into the head of Denny Crane—it’ll only make yours ache.”

Hands on his hips, Ressler asked, “Is he the next person on the Blacklist?”

“Heavens, no! Denny is a dear associate of mine, and he is to remain untouched by you ham-fisted lot.”

“Get on with it, Red.”

“Relax, Harold. I was, as you so eloquently put it, _getting_ there.” Brushing imaginary lint off his pristine vest, the infuriating man smiled blandly, reveling in the glares burning holes in his suit as he took his sweet time to elaborate. “The man has a memory of a goldfish, hence why he carries around a voice recorder everywhere he goes. That is the key to our next Blacklister.”

“Are you going to tell us who this Blacklister is?”

“All in due time, Samar. All in due time.”

“How are we going to get our hands on this recorder?”

“You mean, _your_ hands. Really, Elizabeth, modesty doesn’t become you.” Before she could snap a retort, he continued, “Denny is hosting a Christmas party this evening. I am invited, as is my plus one, and I have no doubt we’ll have at least one server slipping on banana peels tonight.”

“All right, then,” Cooper exhaled slowly, “brief Agent Keen on her cover, and—”

“Actually, Harold, I was thinking Agent Navabi should accompany me this time.”

That caught everyone’s attention.

“And why is that?”

“Ah, well, I know how much Elizabeth loathes dressing up for these things, so I thought, why not give her a little break—”

“I’ll take a break once we get this over with, Reddington,” Liz said, trying to will down the flush spreading across her cheeks. She hoped the tinge of hurt in her voice had gone undetected.

Cooper turned to Red, an expectant look on his weary face.

“Well, then,” he nodded, clearly displeased, “you’ll need a dress.”

***

“Raymond!”

“Denny!”

Elizabeth watched with mild amusement as the two men exchanged an enthusiastic bear hug. With sparkling eyes and stretched cheeks, they greeted each other rather boisterously, falling into a chatter as if they had never been apart. She was certain they were speaking English, but for the life of her, couldn’t understand what in the world they were actually saying.

“Well, well, well, well, well, and who might this goddess be?”

The stout, rosy-faced man openly leered at her, scrutinizing her from the toes of her strappy heels to the top of her styled head, then dipping back down to gaze at her modest curves. She, too, took the time to scan his appearance, glancing at his expensive tux only fleetingly before zeroing in on the ridiculous headband that held a conspicuously tall sprig of mistletoe.

“Ah,” Red acted as though he had forgotten her very existence, “Denny, meet Elizabeth. Elizabeth, meet Denny.”

Smiling politely, she reached out her hand—which Denny immediately grasped, stamping a kiss just beneath her knuckles. “I’m sure it’s a pleasure to meet me, Lizzie,” he said so smoothly that, for a second, she thought she had misheard him. She also had to apply considerable force to tug her hand out of his stubborn grip. “Denny Crane.”

She wasn’t sure whether Red’s twitch was a result of Crane calling her _Lizzie_ , or if it was because of his overly friendly touch. Either way, his reaction didn’t bother her. In fact, she could admit to herself, she rather liked it.

“Of course,” she finally responded.

Turning to Red, he said in a stage whisper, “You sly dog, still got the touch, eh? But, say… isn’t she a bit old for you? What say I take—”

“Keep your pants where they are, Denny,” Red cut him off, his smile no longer reaching his eyes. “Did I mention Elizabeth’s a vegan?”

She blinked.

Denny blinked.

“What the hell is that?” his associate asked, genuinely confused. “Listen, there aren’t many kinks I don’t know about, but kids today—”

“It means, she not only doesn’t eat meat,” he continued to lie, “she doesn’t consume any animal products at all.”

Gasping, Denny snapped, “Now why the hell would you do that? What, is she anti-gun, too?”

“Careful, Denny,” he warned gravely, “just the word g-u-n is enough to get her shaking in her heels. Point a water-gun in her face, and she’ll scream bloody murder.”

_Where the hell was he going with this?_

“A veggie and a communist! Where’d you pick this one up, Red? Los Angeles?” Before Red could respond, he waved a dismissive hand. “Well, whatever. You must keep her around for a reason…” He waggled his brows, then winked as if she wasn’t right there. Straightening his bow, he offered her his hand. “Care for a dance, sweetheart? I’ll show you just how well my body moves… Denny Crane.”

“Actually—”

“Sure,” she shot Red a meaningful look, hoping he understood what she was trying to convey, “I’d love to.”

Just before they left for the dance floor, Denny again stage-whispered, “There’s a g-u-n in my pants I’d bet my life she—”

“ _Denny_ —”

By then, the egotistical, borderline-predator flirt was too far away for him to strangle. Or gut. Or maim.

Trying not to let Raymond’s withering glare distract her from her task, she brought one of her hands up to rest on Denny’s puffed chest. “So, how did you meet Raymond?” she casually asked, doing her best to maintain a respectable distance between them—which was easier said than done, considering he was doing _his_ best to plaster their bodies together. On the bright side, that meant he was too preoccupied to notice her wandering fingers.

“Why talk about that fat cat when we can talk about Denny Crane? Go ahead, ask me anything.” He continued before she could. “Why, yes, I’m very giving in bed. I’ll go down—”

“To the bar,” Red said, appearing from out of nowhere just as Denny was about to grope her ass. “There was a leggy blonde looking for you.”

“Leggy, you say? How many legs are we talking here? You know, my father once said that the best sex—”

“She won’t be waiting all night, Denny. I’d run as fast as I can if I were you.”

_Was she imagining the threat laced in his words?_

“We’ll have to continue this later, Lizzie.” Dropping her like a hot potato, he licked his lips and turned to dash. Looking over his shoulder, he bid, “Keep her warm for me, Ray.” 

Luckily for him, he was surprisingly fast.

“I got the recorder,” she quietly confirmed to Red, assuming that was the reason he had interrupted her dance with Denny. “I’ll just pass it to Ressler or Samar—”

“The song isn’t over yet, Lizzie,” he said, reclaiming his nickname for her with a glint of… _something_ in his eyes, his voice.

With one hand in hers and the other low on her back, he encouraged her to fall into step with him, their movements easy and natural. But even when the song ended and changed, they didn’t stop, instead slowing further and sinking into the lulling rhythm of the music.

She wasn’t aware of when or how it had happened, but she belatedly realized just how close their faces were. A mere inch forward would allow her to graze her nose against his smooth skin, inhale the clean, unique scent of him. A little closer, and she would be able to taste the champagne on his lips. With a gentle pressure, a slight gasp, she could so easily—

They jumped apart at the sound of a loud crash.

It didn’t take long for them to discern where the commotion was coming from, as there was already a loose crowd forming near the bar—and at the very center of it was none other than Denny Crane.

He was standing across from a scowling man and a tall blonde woman…

Raymond and Elizabeth both had a feeling they knew what had started this mess.

“I didn’t proposition her. I just asked her to have sex with me,” Denny announced, as if that was a perfectly acceptable thing to say.

The man’s face flushed with a worrisome shade of crimson, and to everyone’s horror, revealed that he was seriously armed. Before he could do anything with it, however, a loud _bang_ shocked everyone still.

On his previously unblemished pants, right in the middle of his thigh, was a bright blob of yellow… _paint?_

“Oops. Wrong one.” Bending down, Denny retrieved a small gun that had been strapped to his ankle. “Denny Crane doesn’t get shot at,” he yelled, aiming at the man’s other thigh and pulling the trigger without hesitation. “Denny Crane shoots!”

Chaos commenced as the two literally engaged in a gun fight. Bullets whizzed, screams erupted, glass shattered. People ran this way and that, tripping over dresses, abandoning stilettos, and doing their best to escape with their flesh in tact.

“I was a sniper in the Navy!… Or was I a helicopter pilot?” Now with a gun in each hand, Denny shot bullet after bullet, shouting as he ducked and spun. “I have an erection. Lock and load, baby! Denny Crane!”

“That’s our cue to leave,” Red said in her ear, practically dragging her by the elbow. On their way out, he released her briefly to stop Ressler from getting involved. Something on the ground caught her eye, and she used the few seconds she had to take it, attempting not to get trampled on in the process. “Lizzie. Now.”

This time, they didn’t stop walking until they were safely encased in the back of his car, Dembe driving them out into the night.

Keeping her stolen object carefully hidden, she turned to Red and smirked. “Well, that was interesting.”

“That’s one way of saying it,” he said, chuckling.

He leaned back, settling into the seat and closing his eyes. Knowing an opportunity when she saw one, she gripped the accessory from beside her hip and placed it on his head, refusing to move away as he jerked and snapped his eyes back open.

She didn’t give him a chance to question her.

She didn’t give _herself_ the chance.

Not wanting to waste another second, she pressed her mouth to his.

The kiss was chaste, but it lingered—long enough for her to notice just how soft his lips were. And although she had always been more of a wine girl, she reveled in the fact that she really could taste the remnants of champagne, the crisp flavor blending with subtle, intoxicating notes that could only be described as _him_.

Finally, after seconds or minutes—time was irrelevant to her at that moment—she pulled back, still close enough to feel his radiating heat and sense his racing pulse. Just as his thumb had stroked the small of her back, she used hers to brush his lips, his jaw, before reaching up to flick the mistletoe hanging above them.

“Merry Christmas, Red,” she said, just as softly as her smile.

Pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, slowly gathering his wits, he tentatively reached for her hand and tangled their fingers together. “Merry Christmas, Lizzie.”

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride, but both knew that they didn’t need to.

Words could wait.

For now, they had each other.

_Finally._


End file.
